


Lost all ambition for worldly acclaim

by inquisitor_tohru



Series: Far Above the Moon [6]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Childhood Memories, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Parent-Child Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 19:33:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7858249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitor_tohru/pseuds/inquisitor_tohru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendol Hux speaks with his (until recently) estranged son, Caleb.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost all ambition for worldly acclaim

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rad_puppeteer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rad_puppeteer/gifts).



 

> _“I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.”  
>  _ **\- Mary Shelley, _Frankenstein_**

 

Brendol Hux was tired. He was always tired. It didn’t matter how long he slept or how much caf he drank. _Life_ was just tiring.

His son sat in front of him, clicking the heels of his boots together. One of his peculiar rituals. Caleb was wearing thick woollen gloves, too. He said it was because of the cold on the  _Finalizer,_ but Brendol _knew_ his hands and wrists were covered in scratches. The gloves served two purposes. They concealed, and they prevented him from picking and peeling at the scabs. He knew because this was a habit the twins shared.

“You have a… _talent_ for surviving.” Caleb simply stared at him for a few moments, and Brendol wondered if perhaps he’d taken more than his usual dose of painkillers. “That you managed to gather enough parts to engineer-”

“ _Scavenge_ ,” Caleb interrupted. “I created weapons, yes. But I was a _scavenger._ I _scavenged._ There’s no need to tiptoe around that. After all, that’s how I was _programmed_. How could I have been anything _else?_ ” He was angry. All of his sons were angry. All except one. He hadn’t met all of them, but he could _feel_ it. 

That was tiring, too.

“And how exactly did you succeed in _scavenging_ so many materials?” he asked, smiling at his son. “It’s quite extraordinary that you found the time to scavenge, sell, sleep _and_ build your own weapons.”

“You already know what I did.” This time when he spoke Caleb sounded weary, almost as tired as he was. His fists clenched, nails digging into the soft, thick wool. Brendol nodded.

“I’ve read your monitors’ reports, of course. However…” He paused, pretending to fiddle with his datapad, as he suddenly became very aware of just how much Caleb resembled his mother from this angle. The last time he’d seen Aoife’s likeness in one of his sons, he’d found himself compelled to reach out - literally - to him. The reaction had not been as he’d hoped. He pushed the memory away, continued. “I’d like to hear from _you_.”

“Were the reports not _thorough?”_

“They were. I was…impressed. It’s not often you come across someone so willing to do whatever it takes.” Caleb sighed, but Brendol kept on speaking. “Yet there’s nothing in them to suggest why you would be so _hesitant_ to discuss your time on Jakku.”

“Because it was _despicable.”_

“You behaved as you did in order to _survive._ Your decisions were _rational_.”

“That doesn’t mean they were right. I had options. All of them were kriffing awful, but I _had_ them. I didn’t _have_ to do what I did.” He was shaking now. “But I valued my _own_ life more than the other kids’ and…here we are.” Brendol considered trying to reach out to Caleb, but thought better of it, fingers curling back towards his palm. 

“Here we are.”


End file.
